“Come here, boy!” A man with a long black robe beckoned from inside the carriage. “Get inside right now!”
Tzvi trembled before the cruel, cold gaze of Jan.
“Whatever I owe you, we can work out. If you have a little patience, a little heart, I can get you the money and we can settle the issues between us.”
“We’re past that now, Jew. Don’t talk to me about waiting after several months have gone by, in which you’ve selfishly decided to sit and study your ancient books while my coffers aren’t being filled with my rightfully deserved and owed rent!”
Jan grabbed Tzvi and shoved him to the door. “I know what the issue is, the heart of the matter, which is why I cannot stand the Jews who live here. You are all so crazy in love with your religion, your G-d, your Torah, that you neglect everything else and live in ways that cannot be sustained! What needs to happen is for you to wake up and snap into reality. Look at you, an old, hunched-over man, who has yet to realize that in This World, in our town, one cannot rely on G-d for everything and expect everything to be alright, and for money to fall from the sky and rent to be dropped off in my coffer by some angel floating down from heaven on wings! This is Sharayeh! Not some make-believe place, Jew!”
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